Day: November 21, 2004

The chlorine kisses me with silent accusation. I don’t want to be here and the water knows it. My teacher is as chilly as standing wet on the side with my toes on the edge and the other kids don’t like me. I leave my towel next to the clinical tiled showers and the faceless pay-a-quarter lockers with their identical orange keys that make me feel smaller than I am. It should stay dry there, but it doesn’t. No-one talks to me unless they are telling me to do something.

The deep end of the pool has secrets at the bottom. I look down past my blurry feet scissoring the water and I imagine I see sparkles. It is the holy grail of my grade two swimming class. The blessed few who can reach it lord their ability over us, puppies treading water in brightly coloured bathing-suits. I think the sparkles are wishes. The day I hold the bubble in my nose and touch my tiny fingers to the dark blue bottom, I will surface knowing how to play cello.

Lifting my life into science makes the day easier.

Tomorrow I wake up and look over my room like I haven’t in a long time. My eyes will scan over all of my belongings, tracking for any needful things, attempting to pluck them from the jumble of gold edged fairy tale mirrors, tins of oil paints, lite-bright paraphernalia, and metal lunchboxes full of photographs, ticket stubs, and birthday cards. There will be something almost essential that I leave behind, it’s a given, but that will not stop my gritty gazed morning search of the premises.

This morning I spent in a half aware nightmare of nasty dreaming and tidying. My body is in such need of dreamscapes freedom that it was unshakable for hours. I was aware and up and moving, but couldn’t shut off the narrative, the slew of images. Synthasia in the way I picked up a scarf of saffron silk to the feeling of rough gravel in the palms of my hands, how adding it to the windowsill heap of fabric threaded through with a man telling me to run, the helicopters were coming, the searchlights would pick me out too easily. My need for healing rest is becoming slightly dangerous. In a very real way, I am flying to California to sleep.

please world, let five days be enough.